


Made With Love

by sophh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fred learns to knit, Gen, Marauders Advent 2020, The Burrow (Harry Potter), Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, giving a gift, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophh/pseuds/sophh
Summary: Fred needs a gift for Angelina, but he's on a tight budget. Enter Mrs. Weasley and her knitting needles.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Fred Weasley & Molly Weasley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 14
Collections: The Marauders Advent 2020





	Made With Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marauders Advent 2020 fest, hosted by the lovely Frumpologist!  
> My prompts were Fred Weasley and scarf.  
> Credit to Gen (owlways_and_forever) for her plot help, and Ray (RayQueen) for looking over this at the last minute!

Fred strode into the Burrow with a single purpose in mind. Christmas was coming up, and with all of the money that he and George had sunk into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, his budget for gifts was rather tight. Angelina deserved something that was made with love, though, even if it wasn't extraordinarily expensive. To that end, he was determined to find his mother and ask her assistance in the matter. 

"Mum," he declared as soon he saw the Weasley family matriarch, "I need your help." 

His mother had been in the kitchen washing the dishes while singing along to a Celestina Warbeck song on the wireless. Now, she turned off the sink and twisted around to look at him, a worried look on her face. "Is something the matter, dear?" 

"Yes!" Fred said, throwing his hands into the air more dramatically than was probably necessary. "I need a Christmas present for Angie, and, well, I haven't exactly got a lot of money at the moment—"

Mrs. Weasley's brow furrowed. "You haven't blown _all_ of your savings on that joke shop of yours, have you?"

Fred swallowed. "Not exactly," he lied. The truth would only set her off on a pointless lecture, he figured, and besides, he was a man on a mission. "But don't you always say that handmade gifts make the best gifts anyway, Mum?" 

"Yes, I suppose I do, dear," his mother said with a smile. "Now, what sort of present did you have in mind for that darling Angelina?" 

Fred grinned. "A scarf. I thought you could help me make it, you know, because you're such a wonderful knitter." 

He hoped that a bit of flattery would help seal the deal, and it seemed that it did — his mother let out a little squeal and clapped her hands together. 

"Oh, what a wonderful idea, Freddie! Hold on, let me finish up here and then I'll fetch my yarn and knitting needles." 

***

A quarter of an hour later, Fred was having his first knitting lesson. It was more difficult than he had imagined it would be — the looping of the yarn and the movement of the needles was rather baffling — but he managed to cast on his stitches after a great deal of correction from his mother. There _may_ have been a bit of swearing on his end, though, which had earned him several dirty looks from her as well. 

"Right, now what?" he asked, holding up his meager progress. "When does it start to look like a scarf?" 

Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue at him, and he was instantly reminded of the chickens she kept in the coop in the backyard. They could often be found making similar noises. 

"After you've done a few rows, it'll begin to take shape, dear. You'll see," she replied. "I'll have to show you how to do a garter stitch first, however. It's really very similar to the way you cast on your stitches..."

Fred watched as his mother demonstrated how to do the garter stitch using a scrap of emerald yarn. 

"So I just...slip the needle through the top stitch," he said, completing the action as he spoke, "and then loop the yarn around...?"

Mrs. Weasley leaned over and briefly inspected his work. "Yes, very good, dear. Loop the yarn around the needle in your right hand, then slide the right needle — the _right_ needle, dear — under the left...oh, there goes your stitch, Freddie, but no matter. Just start again, and make sure you don't let the needle slip this time." 

Fred bit his tongue and nodded. Knitting sure seemed to have a lot of rules, and if there was one thing that Fred Weasley didn't enjoy, it was _rules._ Still, the thought of his girlfriend's reaction when she saw his handmade gift was enough to make him push through his annoyance. 

***

Over the next two weeks, Fred snuck away whenever he could and worked on his girlfriend's present. The scarf was a little crooked in places, and there were a few dropped stitches throughout, but he knew that Angelina wouldn't mind. He did think that she was starting to get a little suspicious, however. 

"Fred, where were you?" she asked one day. Her hands were planted on her hips and her face was set in a puzzled frown. "I asked Verity where you'd disappeared to and she said you were in the back room, but you weren't there!"

"What are you talking about, Angie?" Fred said innocently. "I've been up here by the register this whole time." 

Angelina narrowed her eyes at him. "You were _not._ I checked here first."

"Well, maybe you need your eyes checked, then, love," Fred shrugged. 

"Fred Weasley, I do _not_ need my eyes checked!" Angelina gave him a rather hard jab in the chest with her finger. "What I do need is to know why you keep disappearing on me!"

George walked by, snickering, just as Fred opened his mouth to defend himself. His twin knew why he kept running off, but instead of rescuing him, George merely said, "Oh, I do love a good lover's spat!" 

Fred gave him an incredulous look. "Thanks, George." His twin was already walking away, however. 

"You're welcome," he called over his shoulder. 

Fred turned back to Angelina, who now looked as though steam should be pouring from her ears. 

"Angie, love," he said solemnly, "I promise everything will become clear to you very soon. You just need to have a little, er, patience."

Much to his relief, Angelina's face relaxed and she let out a small giggle. 

"I can't believe you of all people are talking to me about being patient," she said, shaking her head. 

Fred chuckled. "The irony is definitely not lost on me."

***

Fred smiled fondly at the royal blue scarf that had been a labor of love from start to finish. It was so soft, he mused, rubbing it against his cheek. 

"Oi, Fred, stop fondling Angie's gift and wrap it already," George said. 

"I am, you git," Fred said, hastily putting the scarf down and selecting a roll of giftwrap. The one he chose had silver snowmen on a blue background, and the snowmen would wave their little branch arms every so often. It was cute and festive and went very nicely with his present, if he did say so himself. 

Fred unrolled the giftwrap to see how much he would need, then pointed his wand at the pair of scissors nearby. The scissors flew over—George ducked to avoid being hit—and began to cut a neat rectangle. When that was done, Fred tapped his wand on the piece of giftwrap and watched as it folded itself around the scarf. Finally, he took a roll of tape and sealed the package by hand. 

George leaned over to survey his work. "Nicely done. I'd have put it in a box first, though, so it wouldn't be so lumpy."

"Well, excuse me for not having your superior giftwrapping skills," Fred said, rolling his eyes at his twin. "Next time, _you_ can wrap all of the gifts, alright?"

"I thought you'd never ask, my dear brother," George smirked. 

Fred grabbed a Skiving Snackbox from the counter and chucked it at him. "I may be your dear brother, but you're still a git."

***

Christmas dinner at the Burrow was delicious as usual, and Fred felt more than a little stuffed when he and Angelina returned to their flat. 

"Merlin, I feel as if I've eaten a hippogriff," he groaned, massaging his stomach. 

Angelina dropped onto the sofa beside him. "So do I." She leaned into him and sighed. "Your mum's treacle tart is just so good I couldn't resist going back for seconds."

"And thirds," Fred teased. "Don't think I didn't see you sneak back for a third helping."

"Busted," Angelina laughed. "Speaking of sneaking around, though, will I finally learn why you've been doing so much of that lately?"

"Yes, I suppose you shall." Fred dropped a kiss into her hair before getting to his feet and crossing to the small Christmas tree that occupied one corner of the living room. He picked up the package that he had so carefully wrapped for her and tossed it in her direction. "Catch!"

Angelina snatched the package out of the air with the same sort of triumphant grin she wore when she scored a goal in Quidditch. "Thanks, Fred." 

Fred returned to the sofa and watched as Angelina unwrapped her gift with deft fingers. 

"Oh, wow, a scarf?" she exclaimed, pulling it out of its wrapping and examining it. "It's a beautiful color. Did you make this yourself?"

"Sure did," Fred said proudly. "Mum gave me some pointers to get started but the rest was all me." 

Angelina draped it around her neck and struck a pose. "What do you think?" 

"Gorgeous," Fred proclaimed. He leaned forward and tugged at the ends of the scarf to pull her in for a kiss. "Happy Christmas, Angie," he murmured. 

Angelina flashed him a radiant smile before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. "Happy Christmas, Fred." 


End file.
